


i met a traveller from an antique land

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Karl Jacobs-centric, M/M, Minor Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29481435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The story of Karl Jacobs is average at best.Donʼt let the end of the world ruin your life.Or, Karl wishes time was as linear as it presented itself to be.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50
Collections: anonymous





	i met a traveller from an antique land

**Author's Note:**

> note 1: karl/quackity/sapnap is dsmp!canon and its the only reason its vaguely mentioned, shipping is a no for me.
> 
> note 2: this is rushed, it was for my friend.
> 
> note 3: lord. this is rushed.
> 
> note 4: all pov is karl. the change in 'he' to 'you' is intentional. it is karl.
> 
> tales from the smp must be watched to understand!!
> 
> NOT CANON-COMPLIANT, CREATIVE LIBERTIES O7.

People assume that when you know every reality, youʼve lived through every possibility. Every action has a consequence, and heʼs stuck in a loop because even though he fixed a previous problem, he has no idea how to tackle the present.

“Iʼm going out for a while,” he says to Quackity who just shrugs in answer. The two have gotten close, Karl being an outside to the angry dynamics that have seemingly formed across the SMP, and Quackity suffering under his husband-running mate partner. He isnʼt even gonna touch that subject.

Itʼs simple, find the button. He digs through trees and looks under Lʼmanberg, using the sewer system or whatever theyʼve called it this time around. He swipes his hands around the walls in hope—

“What the f— hon— Why?!” He shouts in pain, turning around to see Tommy holding a stick and looking just as suprised. “What are you doin' here, who told you? Was it Tubbo?” 

Maybe he does look a little suspicious, sneaking around in the dead of night. He lifts his arms disarmingly, breathing in. He can mediate the situation. “I dug down. Fell in here. Thought it was a mining strip—” 

“Youʼre full of shit.” 

He hates children. If he has children heʼs going to unhave them. Easy. They suck. Oh my god. 

“No?” He tries, voice almost cracking. To be fair, 6 ft children with sticks are scary. He tries again, “So uh, is Wilbur here?”

Wrong thing to say. Tommy practically shrinks in on himself, “Donʼt bother him. Heʼs doing weird shit, actually, why are you looking for him? Heʼs not into that, sorry, iʼve only seem him into salm—” 

“Wow,” he cuts off. Heʼs run into this situation before, unfortunately. “Itʼs getting late, shouldnʼt you sleep? Do you need something?” He rules out the button being here, maybe he should check near the borders? Last time it was here. 

Is there somewhere heʼs missing? 

Cave sounds fill in the silence. As do footsteps. He can hear them through the wall, solid and heavy and exhausted. Tommy stands still, “thatʼs Wilbur.” Karl knows heʼs lying, but he canʼt explain how he knows without being suspicious, so he just nods. If he was meaner, heʼd find a way to use a white lie to his advantage, but Quackity told him he was too nice once and its been on his mind ever since. “Alright. Seen any buttons lately?” 

Tommy raises an eyebrow, looking at him funny. “No?” He expected that answer, worth a try. 

Maybe it was the darkness of the cave, but the kid looked on the brink of a breakdown. Maybe a little human interaction is what he needed, so he doesnʼt count this as a particular fail. 

Itʼs when he walks around and sees Quackity in the same spot he left him. Thatʼs when the panic hits him hard, he has to find it. He has to find it. 

It takes an extra day, just beside a mountain. 

Itʼs particularly uneventful. 

( _PROLONGATION: 682 HOURS. 72%_.)

* * *

You find a village once. There are 6 identical houses, owned by many unique people. You meet a deep-voiced man who calls himself the detective, and you donʼt recognise him. You meet a strawberry blonde boy who canʼt be older than 16— who is the doctor and who is kind and you think, _it couldnʼt be anyone else_. 

You sit up on your one-block tower like a God, and you wonder if this is how _he_ always felt, but for now the villain is a regular normal person in one of the 6 identical houses. 

One of the 6 oak doors open. You watch as they kill eachother. 

They say the village went mad, but from what? Maybe he shouldnʼt have come. 

(In every reality so far, the strawberry blonde boy survives.)

( _PROLONGATION: 0 SECONDS. 100%_.)

* * *

The festival starts nicely. Itʼs Fundy and Quackity and Techno joking around at the start, laughing at jokes in a way that makes him feel sick. He stays in the shadows. 

There is nothing he can do. And it sucks. And he cries, not loudly, as he watches the scene unfold on stage. Schlatt to the left and Quackity to the right and Tubbo in the middle. Staring directly at him. Oh. 

**0%**. 

The festival starts nicely. Itʼs many people joking around at the start, a prolonged bit of Techno pretending to drown and Fundy getting tricked and shoved into some water. Itʼs funny, but it makes him feel ill, one of them knows exactly what is going to unfold in the next few minutes, and he still jokes around as if they're old-time friends. 

Well, they were. 

“You good?” A friendly voice says behind him and he jumps only to be caught immediately, Sapnap stands grinning. He shouldnʼt be here. Sapnap should not be here. 

( _90%_.)

“Whyʼre you hiding like a creep?” 

To avoid this exact situation. But he likes Sapnap so he isnʼt going to say that. “Not a party person, i guess,” he smiles weakly. “Oh! Well, thatʼs fine. Are you gonna show up to the speech? I think Dreamʼs gonna show.” 

White noise, he doesnʼt remember if he responded or not, he doesnʼt know how long they talked. Itʼs until the first explosion, he knows for sure. Not the killer, because he isnʼt lucky enough to skip that scene. 

( _The Doctor is dead_ , _who killed him_? _Vote_!.)

Technoblade kills him five times over. 

Fuck the white floors, they deserve to be stained with gunpowder and blue and red and they deserve this he deserves this he is so much less without this—

( _PROLONGATION: Better Luck Next Time_!) 

* * *

You have sand in your shoes and you walk into a bar. A desert is under your feet, and you feel in control. The bar has three people inside, two of them are your husband. They sneer at you. What is your name? 

The killer is the sherif and he is kind, the doctor is a madman and you are still Karl Jacobs. 

You wish for something new. 

You are the something new. 

You think this is the good part, when theyʼre rounding up a group like that one movie Sapnap made you watch— Oceans 11? 

These people probably havenʼt even heard of movies. Well, they definitely havenʼt. They canʼt even count past six, which, hey! No shame! But, itʼs disheartening to see a duel end like this. 

Mason heʼs called this time around, Crops turns around on six and shoots randomly. He is dead before it started. 

This wasnʼt supposed to happen. 

Your wedding ring glints in the sun, this wasnʼt supposed to happen. 

You end in a church, hearing someone pray. When you leave, your library grows and you wake up in bed. “Quackity?” 

A shuffle. You breathe in and out, “Sapnap?” 

“Who?” Quackity mumbles, tiredly. There are no flowers on the bed side anymore, “nothing. Go back to sleep.” 

He traverses the castle with wonder and anger. It is too white for the greyness inside. He looks under the tree and ignore the advice. 

He wakes up in bed. 

The flowers are dead, on the bed side. The bed is far too neat for him to have been sleeping in it for a long time, and the door is slightly open. He sees Quackity and Sapnap in the kitchen, and Quackity chokes on his water when he walks in. 

“Where the fuck have you been? Do you know how— how worried we are? Karl—” 

And you find, wonderfully, that you have never experienced this before, and you donʼt know what to do.


End file.
